The Captive Bird
by Emma Yes
Summary: When infidelity and guilt drive them apart, can a horrible tragedy bring Sam Evans and Mercedes Jones back together? Samcedes. Set after On My Way  3x14 . WARNING: May Contain Spoilers
1. Aftermath

Mercedes always hated the cold, antiseptic atmosphere of hospitals. In the past year and a half, she'd seen the inside of the soulless, stark buildings far too many times: during the tenuous days while Burt Hummel lay in a coma, she'd been there. After Dave Karofsky's failed suicide attempt, she'd been there. But neither of those times had felt so real, so cruel, as finding the slender blonde girl she'd once called her "soul sister" lying lifeless beneath the crisp, blue sheets of a sterile hospital bed. It was a private room and everything was as quiet as an empty church except for the gentle, measured breaths of oxygen being pumped into Quinn's body, causing the gradual slope of her chest to rise and fall, and the rhythmic beeping of her heart monitor like strange music signaling the fact that, even after all she'd been through in the past week, Quinn was still alive.

Quinn was indeed alive, but just barely. The cuts on the left side of her face had left deep scars from her temple to her chin when the truck had T-boned her tiny red VW beetle, sending thousands of tiny shards of glass careening toward her beautiful face. A large patch of her chin-length blonde hair had been shaved away to give the surgeon access to the deep laceration that wound upwards jaggedly through her scalp. And what the collision had done to her body-Mercedes shuddered at thought of the impact and the damage it had caused to Quinn's spinal cord. How the delicate girl had even survived the accident was nothing short of a miracle. Mercedes had received word about the horrific crash while she and the rest of the glee club had been waiting for Quinn's arrival at Rachel and Finn's last-minute wedding ceremony. When the news had come, the wedding had been postponed immediately, and the group piled into their cars, shaken and worried, and headed to the hospital to await news of Quinn's fate.

But that was a week ago. Then, there'd been little hope that Quinn would make it through the night, but by some sheer supernatural force, she had survived. Although she'd yet to regain consciousness, Mercedes believed-always-that where there's life, there's hope.

Although there was little reason to suspect that her footsteps would rouse the comatose patient, Mercedes stepped quietly into the room, and planted herself in the chair nearest to her friend's bed. Settling into the uncomfortable seat, she allowed her gaze to linger on Quinn a little longer. The falling afternoon sunlight streaming through the large window cast a pinkish glow, illuminating the sparse hospital room and bathing Quinn's face in rose-colored light. Seeing her friend lying there like an empty shell made Mercedes' catch in her throat. She swallowed hard, as her eyes studied Quinn's face for any signs of life. The girl's expression was relaxed and peaceful and, aside from the bandages and cuts and the oxygen tube that protruded from her mouth, she might well have been simply sleeping. But no matter what was going on the outside, Quinn was a fighting like hell on the inside to keep from slipping away. Of that much, Mercedes was sure. Quinn had gone through so much in the past three years-no way her life was going to end like this. Mercedes had decided in her heart over a week ago, that she wouldn't desert her friend now, not when Quinn needed her so much. No. She would sit and wait and pray as she always did when she was faced with some a problem that was too big for her to solve on her own.

_Until Sam._

Mercedes twisted the large resin ring on her index finger as she always did when she was pensive and shook the wayward thoughts of the boy from her head. It had been a couple of weeks since she and Sam had talked and she'd ended the flirtation that made her question who she was at the core of her being but Mercedes still couldn't shake the deep connection she had with him. When she'd broken his heart, Mercedes had broken her own heart as well, and that organ, which had once been full of life and love, hung like a dead weight in her chest. With Quinn's near-death experience adding to her heartbreak, Mercedes felt like she was barely hanging on by a thread. She held fast to all she had left-her faith- and she dug in her resolve, if for no other reason than to be strong for everyone else. But Mercedes had grown tired of always putting on the brave face and of constantly being the one to hold on when others would have readily let go. When would it be her turn to have someone else be strong for her?

She withdrew a bright yellow sprial notebook from her backpack and began working on an honors history homework assignment as she softly hummed all of the soothing hymns she'd learned at church throughout her childhood. They'd always given her some measure of comfort and she hoped that while Quinn wasn't even conscious, their messages of hope and deliverance would reach her friend at some subconscious level. Reaching out to stroke her friend's lifeless hand a few times, Mercedes remained in the room for nearly an hour, alternately writing and stroking and singing and praying, until a tall, thin nurse with an angular face stuck her head into the room to let Mercedes know that visiting hours would be over soon. Mercedes smiled gently in acknowledgment and turned to gather her things. Placing her warm palm upon Quinn's cold hand, she rubbed it one last time, careful to avoid the tubes that were delivering medicine into her friend's body. Mercedes blinked back the two heavy tears that began forming in her eyes, unceremoniously snatching her hand from Quinn's to wipe them away.

Mercedes kept hope alive by clinging to the belief that tomorrow was a new day and that maybe it was this particular tomorrow that would bring her friend back from the gaping maw of an early grave. Renewing her promise to spend a bit of every day at the hospital, Mercedes mentally made a note of her schedule. Nationals was little more than a month away and Mr. Schue had scheduled extra after-school rehearsals to make sure the New Directions stayed on their A game. They'd need every single minute of practice if they were to have any shot at beating Vocal Adrenaline. Her history with the New Directions would be over in a few months and this year was her last shot at being a part of something special. However, Mercedes was honest enough to admit to herself that looking at Quinn lying lifeless in a hospital bed made everything that wasn't life and death seem pointless.

As she exited the room, she cast one more glance over her shoulder at Quinn while her vision blurred with tears.

* * *

><p>On the following afternoon, the usually jovial atmosphere of the choir room was more subdued than usual. The whole glee club felt it: a heavy sadness that permeated the air and stifled their joy like a thick, dark cloak. In the familiar surroundings of their favorite space at McKinley High School, the kids were all hopeful that being together with their friends would help them feel a little more comforted. Instead, Quinn's absence-and particularly the reason behind her absence- simply left a gaping hole that Mike and Tina sat hand in hand at the back of the room, Blaine, Kurt, and Puck seemed to stare off silently into space. In the front row, Rachel leaned into Finn, their fingers intertwined, while Artie, Rory, and Sugar seemed to have little to say to each other.<p>

And then there was Sam.

Dressed in the same olive green button down shirt he'd worn when he'd sung that he wanted to be her hero, he sat at the far end of the front row next to Sugar with his head in his hands, blond hair draped over his fingers. Mercedes' heart swelled with pity and she ached to go to him, but she'd given up any right to be his comforter. He'd been infatuated with Quinn once, and although their relationship hadn't lasted long and ended badly, he'd managed to eke out a quiet, mutual friendship with the pretty blonde cheerleader in spite of the fact that she'd cheated on him. That forgiving nature was one of the reasons why Mercedes loved him so much. The question that remained, however, was would he forgive her for breaking his heart?

As though he could sense her eyes on him, Sam turned around and caught Mercedes' stare. He looked like a creature in torment, his familiar green eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red while pale pink blotches splashed across his usually handsome face. Mercedes tried to read what was behind his eyes but in the mere moments it had taken him to find her face among the group, he'd erected a wall so thick and so high that it seemed insurmountable. She gripped her chair, stuck somewhere halfway between crossing the room in a single bound and wrapping him in her arms so they could share their grief, or simply losing her own damn mind.

_Oh, Sam. It wasn't supposed to be like this._

She held his gaze for a moment longer until he turned away to bury his head in his hands again. Mercedes willed Sugar to stroke Sam's shoulders, offering him what little comfort she herself could not, but she knew no one else could comfort him the way she could. The way she had when his whole world had gone spectacularly to shit. Mercedes' heart broke under the realization that she had cut herself off from him, that she no longer had any right to be the person Sam could turn to in times of trouble.

Mercedes' thoughts were interrupted when Mr. Schue strode into the room with a little less than the normal pep in his step. Placing his brown leather attache on the shiny black piano at the center of the room, he walked toward the group, his face haggard with dark circles beneath his usually bright eyes and more than a day's growth of stubble. His voice sounded hoarse when he finally spoke.

"Hey, guys-listen up," he began. "I know it's been a rough couple of weeks for all of us with everything that's happened with Dave and with Quinn. And here's the truth: I don't know if it's going to get better any time soon. I talked to Quinn's parents a couple of nights ago and while she's stable, no one really knows what's going to happen moving forward. I can't promise you that everything will be okay but I know as long as we've all got each other to lean on, we can be strong for each other...and for her. If you're feeling overwhelmed, you can always talk to me or to Miss Pillsbury or any of the adults in your life to help you cope with your emotions. That said, Nationals is right around the corner and as much as I'd like for us to take some time to adjust to what's happened with Quinn, we really have to push through to get ready for the competition. She wouldn't want us to quit now."

For once, Mr. Schue was right. She couldn't give up. Not now. Not on Quinn. Not on Nationals. And never-_never_-on Sam.

She found him at his locker after the brief practice session, unsure and, quite frankly, scared about whether she should approach him or not. It was ridiculous, really. This was the same guy with whom she had grown so close over the summer and shared intimate secrets about their hopes for an unknown future. Mercedes remembered those almost-endless summer nights they'd spent at the lake talking and laughing and discovering they had much more in common than even they themselves could have imagined. But so much had happened between then and now, that deep in her heart, Mercedes knew that neither of them was the same person they were nine months ago. Sam's usual happy-go-lucky smile had been replaced by perpetually pursed lips. Mercedes' memories of kissing that beautiful mouth for the first time came flooding back, unbidden, and the cord connecting their hearts-the one she'd almost snapped several weeks ago-drew her towards him. Just because they weren't together would never mean she'd want to stop being there for him.

Mercedes swallowed hard before speaking. "Hi, Sam."

She couldn't see his face behind the locker door, but she knew he'd heard her alright. He stood still for a moment before closing the short metal door that separated them. He might as well have kept it open because in its place, he'd erected that unbreachable wall again. "Hey, 'Cedes." He hadn't even looked at her, the muscle in his jaw clenching as he spoke, and Mercedes had known him long enough to know that move. It meant either that he had something on his mind that he wanted to say, or that he was annoyed about something. She wondered which one it was.

"How are you doing?" Her fingers, now wrapped around the textbooks she was taking home that afternoon, itched to reach out and stroke his shoulder as a gesture of comfort, but she knew somehow that if she'd even tried, he'd jerk away from her as though she'd tried brand his bare skin with hot iron. He finally turned his eyes turned toward her, his stare icier than she'd ever seen it.

"I'm fine."

_Liar._He was most definitely not fine and neither was she. Mercedes remained quiet for a moment, but her mind hummed trying to figure out a way she could comfort him or assuage his fears without asking him to pull down the walls he'd erected between them. She came up empty. She'd hurt him so much that she wasn't sure he'd ever let his guard down around her again.

"I'm glad you're okay," she whispered under her breath. In that moment, he'd had to tilt his head forward to hear her words, and she got a whiff of his scent. The heady mixture of salt and the masculine scent of his favorite deodorant always had an intoxicating effect on her as it did now. She felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach as she struggled to beat the old feelings back. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Turning on her heel, Mercedes strode down the length of the empty hallway, feeling the distance growing between them. She wanted so desperately to burst into tears, but not here. Not now. She'd wait patiently until she was behind closed doors and in the privacy of her own room and only then would she give into the despair that threatened to swallow her whole. She'd cry for Quinn, for Sam, and for everything she'd lost.


	2. Lost Boy

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters. Set after 3x14 (On My Way) and may contain spoilers.**

* * *

><p>From the corner of his eye, Sam took in the gentle sway of Mercedes' hips as she walked away and took his heart with her...again. Still facing his locker, he listened silently while her receding footsteps echoed along the now-deserted hallway, until the sound retreated into silence. Her scent still hung in the air-a heady mélange of vanilla and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on-and for a few moments, he could close his eyes and almost pretend she was still there. He breathed in deeply and then exhaled on a bitter laugh. If this was life's way of playing a joke on him, he didn't find it in the least bit funny.<p>

Leaving Kentucky and returning to Lima with Finn and Rachel to compete at sectionals was merely a cover; he'd come back for _her_. How different things might have been now if he'd tried to keep his distance and given Mercedes to the space she needed to decide between him and Shane on her own. Instinctively, Sam knew she would have sacrificed herself and her own feelings first before she'd willingly hurt anyone else, so he'd pushed her. And pushed her. Until she broke. In his single-minded campaign to win her back, he never imagined that all three of the players involved would become casualties.

Withdrawing the textbooks he needed that night and stuffing them angrily into his backpack, Sam slammed the locker door shut. He wanted Mercedes Jones-no, he needed her. He was still nursing his hurt and anger at her decision to be alone instead of being with him, but those soft, dark eyes of hers were melting his resolve to give her the space she'd asked for. He missed her. He missed the calming effect she had on his sometimes scattered thoughts. He missed being able to make her laugh with his kookiest impressions. But worst of all-most of all-he missed holding her and feeling perfectly content and at home in her arms. When Mercedes told him that she couldn't be with him, he'd instantly felt ungrounded, untethered, and restless, much the same way he'd felt when his family had been kicked out of their beautiful home and forced to live in a crummy, rundown motel.

And then Quinn's accident sent what was left of his ordered world spiraling out of control.

One minute, he was waiting to play groomsman to Finn, allowing Kurt to perfect the knot of his tie while they waited for the ceremony to begin; in the next moment, he was in the backseat of a car speeding towards Central Ohio Regional Hospital. He'd clasped his hands in prayer almost the entire way there, shutting his eyes tight, hoping that when he opened them again, he'd realize that all of it-losing his home, leaving Mercedes, and Quinn's accident-was all part of some long, terrible nightmare.

No such luck.

The long hours in the hospital waiting room that had followed seemed beyond surreal, with the boys perspiring profusely beneath their black suits and loosened ties and the girls looking like wilted flowers in their wrinkled pink dresses. They hadn't been allowed to see Quinn but both of Quinn's parents were there, wearing worry on their faces like grotesque masks. His eyes scanned the room to take in the responses of all the people gathered there, but his gaze kept landing on one person.

Mercedes.

Her hair had been cascading over her shoulders in curls earlier in the day, but then she was sporting a thick braid that snaked around her neck and lay flat against her shoulder. She'd sat next to Tina in one corner of the waiting room looking stunned, her eyes fixed firmly on some undefined point in the distance while she absentmindedly twisted the large ring on the index finger of her right hand. Every now and again, her eyes would flutter closed and her lips would move intently. Praying, no doubt. God, how he'd wanted to go to her, take her hands in his, look her straight in the eye, and tell her that everything would be okay but he was no fortune-teller. He hadn't known for sure that Quinn would come out of this intact.

To tell the truth, he wasn't sure that he would either.

* * *

><p>"Sam! Hey!"<p>

A loud voice sounded from the far end of the school hallway, snapping him out of his reverie. _Damn_. He'd forgotten to meet Finn and Kurt so they could carpool together after school. The taller dark-haired teen jogged up to him. "You okay, man?"

Sam dipped his forehead quickly, lifting the corner of his lips into his signature smirk. "Yeah, man. I'm good."

_Liar._

"Alright, then," Finn said, jerking his head in the direction of the parking lot. "Let's go."

On the drive home, Finn drove and Kurt sat in the passenger seat talking almost non-stop about the song choices he was considering for his NYADA audition. Sam could tell that Finn was a bit overwhelmed by Kurt's chatter but he wasn't much in the mood to offer him any help. Left to his own thoughts in the back seat, Sam stared out of the window, thinking about his own future.

When Finn and Rachel had come to Kentucky and found him in that god-forsaken strip club, Sam had felt stuck. He'd known there was no real future in taking off his clothes for middle-aged matrons, but it paid the bills and the attention he received from the women who attended the club had been a temporary salve for his broken heart. Finn and Rachel's offer to come back to Ohio had seemed like a godsend-he'd get to be with Mercedes again. And in the moment that his parents had assented to his leaving home and returning to Lima, it felt like the road to his future had reopened and that a world of bright opportunities awaited. It felt natural, and right, and inevitable that _she_ would be on that same road with him, at his side.

Without her, it was like a dark, thick fog hovered over his path, obscuring the view ahead and making him question every step he took.

His feelings for Mercedes scared him sometimes. He'd never-ever-felt like this about another living person. He loved his parents and siblings, sure, but it wasn't the kind of love where he felt sick to his stomach when he couldn't be near them. Mercedes had had that effect on him early on. He remembered his first time feeling like he'd been socked in the gut. He'd met her at the Lima Bean for some coffee and to do some homework together, but instead they'd ended up talking and laughing for nearly five hours. She told him about her plans for the future and she actually _listened_to his dreams. Seeing the way her eyes lit up when he shared his secret ambition to be in a band, Sam felt for the first time that achieving his goals was actually possible. Even when it had gotten late and dangerously near curfew, neither of them had wanted to go. Sam had made a bold move then, reaching his hand out across the table and squeezing Mercedes' fingers. The look she gave him then-soft, pleading, accepting-struck directly at his heart and he'd been smitten ever since. When they'd hugged goodbye as she dropped him off at the motel where his family had been staying, his stomach turned at the thought of having to wait to see her again. For the first time, he'd known that this must have been what love felt like.

And because he'd been impatient, he'd lost it all. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

* * *

><p>Back at the Hudson-Hummels after school, Sam suddenly wanted his parents' wisdom and his siblings' animated chatter. Withdrawing to his room in the basement away from the others, he quickly dialed his parents and tucked the phone against his raised shoulder, securing it against his ear.<p>

"Honey! It's so good to hear your voice!" his mom answered brightly into the phone.

"Hi, Mom." He did his best to level the timbre of his voice so she wouldn't hear the edge of despair in it. "How's the family?"

His father was still at work, so his mother passed the phone to his younger brother and sister who chatted with him excitedly about everything they could think about, and for fifteen amusing minutes, he felt like he was back with his family and that life was normal again. When his brother handed off the phone back to their mother, Sam prepared to say goodbye. His mom, however, had other ideas.

"Sam, honey, what's going on? You don't sound like yourself."

He gagged on the rough lump of emotion that had lodged itself in his throat the moment Mercedes told him she couldn't be with him. It was impossible hide anything from his mother, so instead of walling himself in, he let all of his anger, his frustration, and his hopelessness drain out of him like the ugly discharge from a boil.

His parents had known about Mercedes-at least they'd known that he and Mercedes were friends-but he'd never told them about his true feelings for her. He confessed that she was the real reason he'd returned to Lima, and his mother listened, never once judging him and affirming how he felt. He told her about Shane, about _the kiss_, about how he'd poured out his heart to her on Valentine's Day. About how she'd rejected him.

"Sam, honey, she wants to take some time to figure herself out." his mother urged gently. "Sounds like she's a very smart, very special girl."

"Mom, you have no idea. She's incredible. I've never been with anyone who's made me feel so-so happy and so miserable at the same time. When we're not together, I feel like there's this big part of me that's missing. You know?" Sam smiled to himself for the first time in weeks, remembering what his relationship with Mercedes was like at the beginning. "And she's got such big dreams, Mom. When I'm with her, I feel like I can do anything." His voice grew quiet. "Life without her just seems so-so empty."

His mother listened patiently as he emptied his soul to her. And he knew his mother well enough to know what she was thinking. That he was in what she liked to call "capital-L" love with Mercedes. That this wasn't like his earlier infatuation with lovely Quinn Fabray or the faster-than-you-can-blink rebound relationship he had with Santana Lopez; his feelings now were on an entirely different level altogether. That her baby boy, her firstborn, was growing up.

Sam knew instinctively that her eyes were welling up with tears when he heard her sniffle quietly. "Oh, honey. I don't know how to make it better. I just wish I could hug you right now and tell you that it's all going to be okay."

He instantly felt homesick. "Yeah. Me too."

Sam heard a sharp intake of breath on the end of the other line, as though his mother had been surprised or inspired by something. "So why don't you come home this weekend? It would be so great for you to take some time to clear your head and you know Stacy and Stevie haven't seen you for so long." She paused. "It would do you a world of good to be around your family right now."

A weekend of his mother's home cooking, his father's sage advice, and the incessant chatter of his siblings sounded like the best idea he'd heard in weeks.

"There's a bus from Lima that can get you here in about 5 hours," his mother said as she began formulating the plan in her head. "You can be here by Friday night and you can get back on Sunday. How does that sound?"

Sam knew all about the bus trip his mother had mentioned. And the $100 plus return ticket that went with it. He knew money was still tight at home. He had his old truck-a clunker Burt Hummel had sold him for a mere 500 bucks-but it still needed fixing up and couldn't be trusted to make the nearly 500-mile trip to Kentucky and back. It would have to be the bus, but the cost simply seemed too steep. "Mom, we can't afford it."

His mother softly sighed into the receiver "Hey, you're supposed to be the kid, remember? You just leave that for me and your father to figure out. I think you just need to be around people who love you right now, so just plan on being here over the weekend."

"Yes, ma'am." The invisible weight that had been stooping his shoulders lifted slightly, and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe again. "Thanks, Mom."

"I love you, honey. We'll see you on Friday."

It was Wednesday, and in less than two days, Sam mused, he could get out of Lima, away from all the memories he'd made with Mercedes, and clear his head for a spell. It was a hell of a lot better than staying in Ohio and fending off Kurt's attempts to cheer him up with old movie musicals.

Kurt's latest weapon of choice had been a musical called Carousel and it couldn't have been a worse choice. It reminded him of the hot summer day he and Mercedes had visited a carnival in a neighboring town when the two of them had given in to childhood fancies. They'd eaten buttered popcorn and too-sweet cotton candy and crispy funnel cakes until they were almost sick, feeding goats at the petting zoo, and riding the tilt-a-whirl, their bodies bouncing together and apart within the small car as it spun around and around, dizzying their senses.

When the spinning cars had finally come to a stop, their eyes met and he felt like he was seeing her-truly-for the first time. Illuminated by the pinky golden light of dusk, Mercedes was glowing. Still laughing after the bumpy ride, her smile was wide and warm and her dark brown eyes sparkled with mirth. In that moment, he just knew. He remembered taking her hand then, tentatively threading his tan fingers through her brown ones, and leaning in for a kiss. It had been damned near the closest thing to magic that he'd ever experienced in his eighteen years. The feather-light sensation of her full, tender lips against his own; the gentle pressure increasing by degrees as they changed the angle of approach; the soft touch of her hand that had reached up and stroked gently along his jaw and neck. He'd always remember that tilt-a-whirl ride as the closest he'd ever come to heaven on earth.

One week later, after that summer night when he had soared among the clouds in Mercedes' arms, he'd come crashing down to earth. His father had found a job out of state. Four hours away. She was the first person he'd called to break the news. They'd never discussed putting a label on their relationship but he'd wanted to acknowledge that they'd grown to be more than just friends.

She took the news much more coolly than Sam had expected. "We were just having fun, right?"

Sam had winced inwardly when she'd said that. Fun? It was much, much more than that. His previous relationships with Quinn and Santana made him recognize that what he felt for Mercedes—what they'd felt for each other—was the real deal.

* * *

><p>Footsteps on the stairwell to the basement brought Sam back to the present. It was Kurt. "Didn't you hear us calling? Dinner's ready."<p>

"Oh, is it? Sorry 'bout that." Sam forced a tight smile. "I'll be right up."

As he followed Kurt upstairs, he suddenly couldn't wait for Friday. Time away from Lima would give him the space he needed to make the hard choice he trying so desperately to avoid.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for the reviews and the support! I know this chapter was a bit angsty, but stay tuned! A big development in the story happens in the next chapter…<strong>


	3. The Captive Bird

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters. Set after 3x14 (On My Way). ***SPOILERS*** **

* * *

><p>Golden sunlight streamed through Mercedes' bedroom window, striking the small red figurine of St. Valentine in a way that made it glow, so when she opened her eyes that Saturday morning, it was the first thing she saw.<p>

She lay in bed for a moment longer, facing the dresser atop which the figurine rested. At first she thought her newly opened eyes were playing tricks but as her vision cleared, she could see plainly that St. Valentine was ablaze in a beam of light.

_Was the Universe trying to tell her something?_

Mercedes was raised to believe that sometimes God spoke in signs and wonders but she was often mistrustful of events and circumstances that could be misinterpreted. Throwing off the heavy duvet and rising from her bed, she stuck her feet into her fluffy purple bedroom slippers and shuffled over to the dresser, palming the figurine and looking at it closely for the first time since Sam had given it to her.

He'd taken great care in painting it; in fact, if he hadn't told her that it was once one of the Magi, she might never have known about St. Valentine's secret past. The painstakingly applied brushstrokes covered any trace of what he had been before, and Mercedes couldn't help but wonder what he'd looked like before he'd been transformed.

_Did it matter?_

Surprised by how neatly her mind skirted around the memory of what had happened after she'd received the gift, Mercedes replaced the figurine on the edge of the dresser and tugged the window blinds open to gauge the weather. With spring due to arrive soon, she could just make out the tiny buds sprouting on the skeleton-like frame of the flowering dogwood tree just outside her bedroom window. Last summer, when the same tree had been covered in bunches of verdant leaves, seemed a lifetime ago.

Mercedes remembered the summer night she'd sat at that very window, listening to the wind threading its way through the leaves, reveling in the sensation of the night air gently stroking her face with its long, cool fingers. The sound of the rushing wind so filled the air that she'd barely heard the shrill ring of her cell phone. Recognizing the ringtone she'd assigned just for Sam, Mercedes quickly shut the window and lunged for the phone just before it would have gone to voicemail.

"Hey, 'Cedes."

She usually loved it when he called her that. Not many other people did, and the deep resonance of his voice always plucked something low in her belly, sending vibrations down into her toes, forcing them to curl against her will. But judging from the tone of his voice, Mercedes recognized almost immediately that something was different. That something had changed. "Sam, what's wrong?"

Sam exhaled on a breath that flowed right into his next words. "My dad got a job..."

Mercedes closed her eyes, smiled to herself, and whispered a silent prayer of thanks. She'd been praying for this for so long; they both had. Now he and his family could move out of that awful motel and find a real place to live. Her heart felt ready to explode with happiness. "Sam, that's great news!"

A silent moment passed before Sam spoke again, his voice stoic and emotionless. "'Cedes, Dad's new job is in Kentucky. We're moving there within the next couple o' weeks."

Mercedes felt stunned for a moment as Sam's words slowly soaked in, finally landing with dull thud like a punch to her gut. She opened her mouth to speak, her lower lip trembling as she tried to force the words out of her mouth, but no sound came. Lifting her hand to her lips, she silenced the whimper that threatened to escape instead.

The line was quiet for a while longer until Sam spoke again. "What are you thinking?"

In that moment, and perhaps for the first time in her life, Mercedes Jones didn't know her own mind. As she tried to sort out what she was thinking, it seemed her thoughts were a jumble of relief and panic and sadness. Panic would not do, and sadness would serve neither of them so relief that his family's nightmare was over was all she could manage. "I'm happy for you, Sam," she responded at a volume just a hair above a whisper.

"But what about...us?" He was trying to sound calm, but she could hear the earnest pleading in the words. Her heart pounded as his question echoed in her brain. They'd never felt the need to give their relationship a name, mostly because the change had happened so seamlessly. They were friends and suddenly, they were more than that. They'd spent a lot of time together that summer and there was a lot of handholding, some kissing, sometimes even a bit more than that. They were an "us" alright. Sam had come to mean more to Mercedes than she thought any person ever could. But they were both still very young-they couldn't have found forever so soon, could they?

"We were just having fun, right?" Mercedes felt sick to her stomach. It was a bald-faced lie but what could she have said? That she loved him? She had no idea what that was supposed to feel like. That she cared about him? That his happiness and his comfort meant more to her than her own? Maybe. That she _needed_ him? _No_. Not that. She could never say that. Not to Sam Evans. Mercedes Jones didn't need anybody. But why did the thought of not seeing him every day make her feel like she couldn't breathe?

Sam sounded confused. "'Cedes...I thought we were more than that to each other."

"Sam, look. I know we've been hanging out and having fun and stuff, but you didn't really think it was gonna last, right?" _More lies_. It was best, she thought, to pull the band-aid off hard and fast. The heartache that was sure to come would hurt less that way.

"I didn't think, Mercedes. I just know that I really like being with you. _A lot._I know you feel the same way too, Mercedes. I just know it." Sam was beginning to sound desperate. "Why are we fighting? I hoped we could talk about this..."

"There's nothing to talk about, Sam. Your family is leaving. You have to go. The end." Almost unconsciously, Mercedes placed her hand over her heart where her chest felt like it was caving in on itself.

"'Cedes-"

She interrupted him before he could go any further. "I can't talk now. Good night, Sam."

That conversation had been the last one before his family had left for Kentucky. It wasn't for lack of trying on Sam's part. Each time he'd called, she'd let the phone ring. And the few times he'd come to her house to try to see her, she'd engaged her brother, who was home from college for the summer, to run interference. Her brother would reluctantly tell Sam that his sister was either out or asleep, but the truth was that she was in her room, peeking through the closed blinds each time Sam had come to her house to plead his case.

Lost in a haze of summer memories, the shrill ringing from her cell phone in the present nearly went unnoticed. Glancing at the number before answering, Mercedes gasped when she saw who the caller was.

It was Mrs. Fabray.

* * *

><p>When Mercedes heard that Quinn had regained consciousness, she made it over to the hospital in record time. In her mad rush to get to there, she'd forgotten about everything else until, just before walking out the door, she'd dashed text messages off to the rest of the glee club just as Quinn's mother had asked her to do. According to Mrs. Fabray, Quinn had come out her comatose state late the previous evening, not long after Mercedes had left following her daily afternoon visit. She cursed herself inwardly, thinking that if she had waited an hour or two longer, at least Quinn might have seen a friendly face when she'd opened her eyes.<p>

The elevator doors opened and Mercedes nervously navigated her way to her friend's room.  
>Quinn was sitting upright in bed, propped up by the angled mattress and a couple of flat, hospital-issued pillows. Mr. Fabray was just outside of his daughter's room, having an intense conversation with one of the doctors, while Mrs. Fabray flitted nervously about the room, refreshing each of the five bouquets of flowers placed randomly throughout the space.<p>

Quinn smiled weakly when Mercedes entered the room. "Hey, you."

Mercedes returned the smile. "Hey, back." She approached the bed and took Quinn's outstretched hand in hers. "How're you feeling, girl?"

"I've been better," Quinn laughed feebly to herself. "The important thing is I'll live."

Quinn was much thinner than Mercedes had remembered. The hollows of her cheeks were sunken and the dark circles under her eyes were pronounced, both to be expected since she'd spent much of the last couple of weeks being fed through a tube. The bruising on her face had already begun to fade and the cuts along the left side of her face were healing nicely. Mercedes winced inwardly at the incision on Quinn's shaved scalp, but consoled herself that, in time, Quinn's hair would grow back, covering the scar from the wound completely.

"Mom," Quinn said, her voice raspier than usual. "Do you mind giving me and Mercedes a minute?"

Mrs. Fabray nodded and strode out of the room, leaving her daughter and Mercedes alone.

Mercedes was at a loss for what to say to Quinn. What sort of conversation could you have with someone who'd just faced death and won? Small talk about the weather would have been ridiculous while platitudes about the fragility of life seemed beyond inappropriate. Better to stick to something simple and honest. "How are you really feeling, Quinn?"

The blonde pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead and grimaced. "Like I was hit by a truck."

Mercedes flinched and shot the blonde a scolding look. "Not funny." At least Quinn hadn't lost her sense of humor.

"You wanna know how I really feel Mercedes? Cheated. If all I walk away with from the accident is these scars-" she gestured to her face"-and first hand knowledge of the dangers of texting while driving, I'd consider myself really lucky. But my legs..." Quinn's gaze drifted downwards along the hospital bed where her feet tented the pale blue hospital linen. "The doctors aren't sure I'll ever be able to use them again." Her voice trembled as she spoke.

Mercedes rubbed her friend's arm. "Quinn, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Quinn assured her. "From everything my parents have told me I should be dead. I suppose I should be grateful I'm even here but I don't think everything that's happened has sunk in yet...maybe I'll feel different tomorrow." Silence filled the room as Quinn seemed to struggle with despair. "You know, I don't really wanna talk about me anymore." She stared off into the distance.

To direct her thoughts away from the macabre idea of Quinn being permanently paralyzed, Mercedes focused on the various floral arrangements throughout the room as she sat in the chair at Quinn's bedside. Her eyes landed on a simple but pretty bouquet of vibrant purple irises in a tall, narrow glass vase. "Those are pretty."

Quinn followed Mercedes' gaze. "I think my mom told me those are from Sam."

The brown-skinned beauty flushed and her heartbeat quickened at the mention of his name. She tried to remain cool, feigning indifference and shifting her perusal to a larger, more gaudy display of yellow roses.

She could still feel Quinn looking at her. "Mercedes, what really went on between you and Sam?"

Mercedes suddenly felt like she was drowning. The air seemed to whoosh out of her chest and she pressed her hand to her stomach to calm the butterflies fluttering within. "I told you guys," she choked out, "we had a summer fling. That's all." She hoped the firmness in her voice would satisfy Quinn's curiousity, and put the doubts in her own mind to rest, but Mercedes Jones knew she wasn't fooling anybody, least of all herself.

The blonde looked at her more intensely. "We used to talk about things, you know. Back when I was pregnant. We used to be friends. It's why my mom called you first. She still had your phone number in her cell phone. I'm just asking because you haven't seemed like yourself since around Valentine's Day, when you were singing in glee club." She paused before continuing. "All I'm saying is that what you and Sam had-have-looks a heck of a lot more than a summer fling."

Of course Quinn had noticed. She wouldn't have been surprised if everyone had, hot mess that she was after singing the emotional ballad in glee club. In her heart, she was singing it to Sam and judging from the way he'd fled the room when she'd sung the last note, he'd known the song was for him. "Quinn, I didn't come here to talk about Sam."

"You're a coward, you know," Quinn blurted, her eyes narrowing and flashing with a hint of anger. "Mercedes, you talk a good game. You come in here pretending like everything's okay. Like nobody can touch you. But you're a liar. Anyone who knows you can see you're beating yourself up over whatever it is between you and Sam. I've been sitting here in this bed thinking about all the things I've done wrong in my life and all the missed opportunities and I'm just grateful that maybe, just maybe, I've been given another chance to make things right." Her eyes softened. "Make things right with Sam before it's too late."

"You want the truth?" Mercedes asked, her eyes pricking with the first sting of tears. Taking a deep breath, she said the words she'd been needing to say to someone. Anyone. But especially to Sam. "I think I fell in love with him over the summer."

For a few moments, Quinn looked stunned, as though she wasn't expecting what she'd heard. "Wow...love? That's huge."

By now, a steady stream of tears was forging a silent trail down over Mercedes' cheeks. "I know a lot of people think he's stupid, but he's not. He's so sweet, Quinn, and he just makes me feel so special. We can talk about anything...I never had that with anybody before. There were times when we weren't together that all I could think about was when we could see each other again. I started to feel like I needed him...and it scared me. When he told me his family was leaving for Kentucky, I shut down. I was a coward. I like to let people think they can't touch me, but with Sam I guess I let my guard down. And it hurts so damned much. I didn't know it could hurt so much..." Her voice trailed away on a sob.

Quinn's eyes darted over Mercedes' shoulder towards the door. Mercedes spun around just in time to see Rory, Santana, and Brittany entering the room. She tucked her chin downward to conceal the fact that she'd been crying. "Hey, guys."

One by one, members of the glee club filed into the room and as the once-empty space began to fill, both of Quinn's parents came back in to make sure her friends didn't overstay their welcome and tax their daughter's strength too much. Before long, everyone had arrived. Aside from the trio who had come in earlier, Kurt, Blaine, Finn, Rachel, Puck, Artie, and Sugar were all there; even Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury made an appearance. The general sense of relief at Quinn's recovery seemed to overshadow even the lingering doubts about her future and before long, the gathering seemed almost jovial. Her eyes scanning the familiar faces in the room, Mercedes noted that one very important person was missing.

Quinn noticed it too. "Where's Sam?" she asked, her eyes flickering to make contact with Mercedes' searching gaze.

Kurt piped up. "Oh, he went home to Kentucky."

Mercedes' heart began to thump wildly in her chest. "What? For good?" Her voice quivered as she asked the question, logic giving way to blind panic.

"Oh, no. No, of course not." Finn responded, looking at Mercedes like she had two heads. "He's just spending the weekend with his family."

Embarrassed by her mild outburst, Mercedes felt like all eyes were on her. If Sam had gone for good, he would have told everyone. He would have told her. In spite of everything they'd gone through over the last couple of months, Mercedes knew he still cared about her enough not to leave without saying goodbye. What if he decided to stay in Kentucky? What if he never came back? Feeling the anguish build within her chest, Mercedes waited until everyone else seemed preoccupied and snuck out of the room, fleeing down the hall and ducking into the nearest restroom. Bursting into one of the stalls, she locked the door and collapsed on the cold porcelain seat.

_What a mess_. As much as she wanted to be with Sam, she couldn't help thinking about Shane. About how she'd betrayed him. And how she'd betrayed her own values. She felt like she didn't deserve to be happy and that she had to pay for what she'd done. She could never take back the earth-shattering kiss she'd shared with Sam while she was still with Shane, but by breaking up with the hulking football player, she'd given both him and herself the chance to find the real love that every living creature deserved. She hadn't loved Shane. She cared for him deeply, yes, but what she'd felt for him was worlds apart from the terrible ache she carried inside herself for the green-eyed blond with a grin that made her knees go weak and a heart that called to-and answered-her own.

She remembered the way Sam's eyes had burned into her own as they stood in the hallway with her holding his heart in her hands.

_"We would never do that to each other."_

The realization of what Sam had done hit her for the first time: he had freed her. Yes, his motives had been selfish but it dawned on her that he'd been selfish for the both of them. If it had meant not breaking anyone's heart, Mercedes would have settled for a life with Shane Tinsley, a man she cared for but did not love. She would have married him and had his cocoa babies and maybe along the way, she might have fulfilled her dream of picking up a Grammy or two. She might have been content, but she would never have tasted the mind-numbing, toe-curling, soul-satisfying love she'd always wanted. Sam's relentless pursuit had reminded her that was the kind of love she wanted and made her admit to herself that she'd never have it with Shane.

Mercedes had been feeling like a bird, captive, caged, and in the dark, but hearing Sam's words echoing in her head clearly for the first time, it was as though someone had lifted the heavy canopy shrouding her cage. Opened the gate. Let her sing. _Let her soar_.

Alone in the quiet of the bathroom stall, Mercedes came face to face with the truth: she loved Sam Evans.

_Loved_him.

Couldn't live without him any more than the air she breathed.

And he loved her.

They belonged together.

Her doubts had all but dissipated. The questions in her mind-gone. Except one.

_How was she ever going to get him back?_

* * *

><p><strong>The angsty part is over! Next up: Mercedes gets to work on getting her man back. Reviews are always appreciated. Love Samcedes? Come hang out with me at . I mostly hang out in the MercedesSam thread in the Everyone Else subforum under Shippers. We have an awesome time-see you there! :)**


End file.
